The Morning After
by kln101
Summary: A one-shot story of Oliver dealing with himself after spending the night with someone he brought home from the office. While it could take place anywhere in season two, it is not based on any particular event from the series. (Olicity!)


**The Morning After**

It was almost morning, and whether he wanted to or not, Oliver had to open his eyes. He sat up in bed and looked down at the woman lying beside him. He rested his weight on his hands behind him, and felt them sink down into the softness of the mattress. Looking over the brunette as she slept in the darkness, he wasn't sure what else he had been hoping for.

They'd met at the office earlier in the week, and she'd been flirting pretty heavily. She was beautiful, intelligent, and definitely the type he would have been happy to pick up before his stay on the island. Normally he was too busy to deal with distractions, but last night was different.

The group of men he'd been after for the last two weeks had decided to stop running, and the end result was a standoff that led to the deaths of two policemen and a hostage. The bad guys had ended up behind bars, but the cost was too high. The deaths felt like they were surrounding him, overwhelming him. What could he have done to stop it? Oliver had been looking for a few hours off from being the Arrow, and Janelle had seemed like the answer. She'd been more than happy to take him up on the offer for a late night drink, and then the offer for a bit more.

As he glanced around her room, Oliver saw all the signs of someone with a normal life. There were pictures of family and friends on the walls, perfume and make up lit up on the counter from the bathroom light, a few clothes scattered around the floor… and he knew he was in the wrong place. Janelle was nice, but being with her wasn't fixing anything. He'd wanted to feel better, but in all honesty he felt worse. Hooking up with her didn't give him any real release or escape.

Oliver figured that he didn't really deserve an escape- the policemen that gave their lives last night protecting Starling City weren't given an escape. Logically, he knew that spending his nights as the Arrow was making a difference, but some days it felt like all his best efforts were barely making a dent in the corruption and horror that had taken over too much of the city. Janelle, as willing as she'd been, couldn't bring him to believe any differently.

He climbed carefully out of bed, not wanting to wake her up. Neither of them went into the night with any expectations, so he figured that she'd like to avoid an awkward morning as much as he would. He dragged on his clothes from the night before and ran his fingers through his hair. A quick glance in the mirror showed Oliver what he already knew- he looked rough. His face showed the lack of sleep he was getting, along with the weight of his worries, and he knew it would be difficult for him to put on his other faces for the day. Both the face of the billionaire playboy CEO and the face of the stalwart vigilante for justice would take a lot of effort.

Oliver slipped through the apartment and out the front door, closing it gently behind him. He aimed for the elevator, then pressed the button for the ground floor. As the elevator descended, Oliver tried to run through what he needed to do today. He reached down and pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, and he saw that it was lit up with nearly a dozen messages.

There were a couple from Thea saying that she needed him at the club to look at some things, a few from the office wanting to know what time he was getting in, and one from Detective Lance with a question about last night. The last one was from Felicity. She wanted to know if he was okay.

Even at this early hour, it seemed like there were a million places that he needed to be: the office, Verdant, dealing with Arrow issues. He looked at the last message from Felicity again.

_Oliver, I just wanted to check on you and make sure that you were okay. Call me if you need anything._ He had checked in last night after the standoff had gone down, so she knew he wasn't hurt during that fiasco. That wasn't what she was asking. Not sure how to answer, he shoved his phone back in pocket.

The ding of the elevator sounded, and Oliver made his way out to the street where he had parked his bike. Looking back up at the apartment he'd just left, Oliver shut his eyes against the knowledge that he'd used Janelle as a pathetic attempt to gain some normalcy, which he'd failed to find. He climbed onto the bike and cranked the engine, still not sure where he was headed. Which Oliver did he want to be first? As the sun rose over the city, he just started driving.

Twenty minutes later he slowed his bike to a stop in front of a familiar apartment complex. Not even sure why he was there, he headed up the stairs. Oliver knocked on the door, and Felicity opened it.

"Oliver? What are you doing here? Are you okay?" It was still early, and Felicity wasn't scheduled to be in to work for a couple of hours. Her hair was mussed, and she was in the shorts and tank that she had slept in. She looked great to him. Even as he was soaking her in, her eyes were running over him, assessing for damage.

"I'm fine." He answered her. She gave him a questioning look.

"Then what do you need? You could have just called- I'd have met you at Team Arrow Headquarters." She tilted her head and waited for him to fill her in. What was he supposed to tell her? That when he didn't know where to go or who to be, his autopilot sent him to her door? That was not something he felt like sharing.

"You'd messaged and asked how I was, so I just wanted to let you know that I was fine." It was a weak excuse, as far as excuses go, and he knew it. He wasn't good at coming up with those on a day when he was fully functioning, let alone when he was this worn out. He placed his hand on the door frame and leaned tiredly into it.

Felicity's eyes got big, and Oliver knew his facade was slipping, but he couldn't help himself. Usually the only time he needed support to stand was after taking a near death beating. Felicity's face softened, and she reached out a hand towards him. She placed her fingers on his arm as it pushed against the door. He looked away from her questioning eyes, but he moved his other hand to rest on hers, pressing her fingers and feeling her concern throughout all of him. Oliver kept his eyes unfocused and looking off in the distance, not wanting to deal with anything, to just stand still there with her for another second. Just one more second with no one needing anything from him.

"You know it's okay to not be fine, right?" Felicity asked him softly. He took a deep breath and pushed off the door frame. He stepped back, and let her fingers slip away from him. As he lost contact with her, he felt it to his core.

What was he thinking, coming here minutes after leaving Janelle's apartment? Felicity didn't deserve to have to deal with his screwed up life- she was better than that. He shouldn't have come here. He stood up straight and did his best to slip into team leader mode.

"Thank you for checking on me, Felicity," he said as he moved further out into the hallway. He turned and headed to leave.

"Oliver?" Her voice sent the question down the hall, but he had already closed shop on whatever emotion had led him to her door.

"I'll see you at the office," he threw over his shoulder. As he stepped into the stairwell, he closed his eyes and pulled himself together. Time to pick a face.


End file.
